


Guide Me, Omega

by photonromance



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alpha!Boba Fett, Canon-Typical Violence, Fennic Shand cameo, Heat Drugs, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Medical Procedures, Omega!Din Djarin, Omegaverse, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, intense care and cuddling as a heat breaker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:40:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29577648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/photonromance/pseuds/photonromance
Summary: Din get drugged while on a job on Tattooine and the mark intends to use his burgeoning heat to bargain with the King. Boba, however, will not have their nature used against them. Din will decide how is heat is served, and no one else.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Boba Fett
Comments: 20
Kudos: 289





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> More tumblr fic transfers! If you want to holler about BobaDin, find me on Tumblr at Photonromance and Twitter at Photondarling!

This fight was not going well. They darted him toward the end, a sharp little microdart that was slamming through his bloodstream and wiping out every trace of decades of hormone suppressants

He killed them.

Bloody vibroblade clenched so tight his gloves creaked, he cut and sliced and shot his way through leering faces making threats as his scent began shifting in the dozen seconds after the dart struck

The filth they spat at him was- Din shook his head to clear it. The disgusting creatures were dead. That's what mattered. He shook his head again, the fog still thick. He was in trouble. Din fumbled the pouch at his thigh, digging for the hypo he knew lay there.

Except it wasn't. The hypo slipped from shaking fingers and clattered across the floor. Kriff. His head was swimming. The hypo blurred, doubling as Din struggled to focus.

From the shadows, a pair of boots stepped out, unfamiliar but definitely local. "Oh, you'll do more than nicely." The voice was modulated, a vocoder, and Din blinked once more before the darkness swallowed him up.

* * *

Din came to in a fog. His hands were bound behind him, bad news, but his feet were free, even if they were made of lead at the moment. There was an arm hooked under each of his, forcing his shoulders up and apart and it was painful, even if the pain felt disconnected. They were dragging him. Din’s head lolled and, kriff but he was messed up not to notice immediately, he realized his helmet was missing. There was cool air on his face, but it felt tender, like he had been in the sun. Stars, how long had he been out? Been bare? He ducked his head drunkenly, an instinct long worn in to protect himself from prying eyes.

"Little late for that, pretty boy," the same modulated voice from before spoke again, "You'll probably have a nasty sunburn from the ride back, but I dont think Fett will mind. He doesn't need you too pretty."

They were going to Fett?

They had parted on good enough terms, Din had thought? Had something changed?

He was so foggy.  
Had he forgotten something? Stars. He'd been lucky enough to avoid any heat drugs up to now, so it was possible? Maybe? The drug had turned his head dizzy and his blood thick and it was a struggle to remember where he'd been before this-

Ah-

Din had heard of heat drugs. Who hadn't? He knew, in principle, that they triggered hormonal changes with small doses in the dart. The more suppressants in the victim's body, the harder the turnaround was on them. Hence Din’s long spate unconscious. He'd been suppressing for years at this point. Here came the reason his body had chosen unconsciousness.

Pain began growing in his lower abdomen, from a twinge to a firestorm. He drew his knees up, desperate to soothe the ache tearing at him. "Stop that." One of the goons holding his arm kicked at his knee, drawing a ragged sound from Din.

"Don't worry," the modulated voice spoke again, mockingly, "Fett will handle that for you."

There was muffled noise, people talking and soft music, and the sound only made Din hyper aware of his bare face. The pain in his belly spiked and Din tried again to curl up, to put pressure on what felt like an aching wound. The goon kicked him again, laughing. "Do you think he'll share?"

The other asked pinched Din’s chin to try and force his face up. "After he's done? Nah, you know how Mando are. Always fighting, but they're possessive. I heard there was a Marshall out by-"

"Shut up!" The modulated voice cut in and there was a shift of something heavy, a door? And a slice of light cut into the dark hallway.

Din flinched away from the brightness, flushing with humiliation as he was hauled forward into the light, face bare and hormones rank. He knew he was a sight.

He hoped Boba killed him quickly if this was some slight Din didn't remember.

The talking fell from a mild chatter to near dead silence in a moment. The music died even quicker. Din was thrown forward, tripping over his own boots, and landed face first into the stone floor. At least the stone was cool. Another pain was blooming fast and Din curled up against it, breath hitching as he struggled to remember all the training he'd been taught. Breathe through the pain, accept it, hold it, let it go. It was harder than he remembered.

Above him, there was a shift, boots against stone.

"We bring-" the Modulated voice began, before it was cut off by a single blaster bolt. Something thumped to the ground nearby. Din focused harder on breathing as his abdomen began to relax again. Stars, had it always been so bad?

Behind him, there was shouting, a fight? But it was over in moments. The sounds of boots dragging over stone as the two goons were hauled off. Above him, the light was blocked out suddenly.

"Did they hurt you?"

It's Boba. Din would know that voice anywhere. "Heat drug-" he slurred, trying to raise his face from the ground.

"I know, hush now."

Something tugged- his cape? And the world went dim and soft. Boba had pulled his cape up, over his head.

To cover his face.

He wasn't mad?

Then why- oh but none of that mattered. Boba was bundling Din up, slicing his arms free with a blade before hefting him with an arm around his shoulders and an arm under his knees.

"Hold on."

Din nodded, oblivious to the fact Boba couldn't see it under the cloth. They walked that way a while, Din slowly focusing as the pain faded once more. When he had a moment of clarity, he asked, panicked, "Fett, my helmet-"

"The idiot was holding it. Someone will bring it up shortly, don't worry." Boba spoke in short bursts, voice pinched and even.

It took Din several moments to realize why.

"Kriff, Boba, I'm so sorry, I- Ah!"

He was cut off in his apology by pain again blooming in his belly, faster now than before. He curled again, jostling Boba's hold.

"Hang on-" Boba shifted Din’s weight, keying open a door before hurrying in.

The door locked audibly behind them and Boba lay Din gently on something soft. A bed, obviously but- his bed. It was obvious by the heady scent of Alpha and the spiced sweet scent of blaster oil. This was Boba's bed.

"Boba, no-"

"Hush."

Stars. His voice was gentle but firm and Din wanted to roll over and show his belly. He felt pathetic.

"I’m sorry," Boba followed the words immediately, soft and apologetic, running his fingers over Din’s head, over curls covered by cloth, "I won't use the voice." He picked up Din’s arm, laying at his side, and began unbuckling his vambrace, slipping his finger under Din’s shirt to begin rubbing the feeling back into the muscle. "I have someone bringing suppressants," Boba soothed, rubbing circles in the skin of his wrist, "until then, I need you to tell me what to do, Din. Can you do that?"

Tell- Boba? What to do? It struck something wrong in Din’s chest. He whimpered, his free hand rising up to grab at Boba's bicep. "I can't-"

"You can." Boba promised, lacing his fingers with Din’s loosely, "I've seen what you can do, Din. You are Mando'ade. You are not just your nature. I know it hurts. Show me the warrior."

Din swallowed, closing his eyes despite his cloak covering. "Okay." He took a slow breath through his mouth, fighting the intensity of Boba's scent all around him. "I need the suppressants but- it won't be enough."

"Any Alpha you desire is yours."

Din shook his head. "I haven't- I'm not comfortable-"

"I can provide toys?" Boba suggested, returning to slow circles on Din’s wrist with his free hand.

"Hold me?" Din asked, regretting the tremble in the words the moment he said them, but it needed saying, "I need you to- just hold me. Until it passes. And then- then maybe- but- not like this."

Boba is quiet for a long time. But the circles continue, so Din doesn't stop breathing just yet. Boba's scent is thick with arousal, and his restraint is frankly impressive. But if this is just a reaction to a heat, then Din won't get his hopes up.

“If you promise to eat,” Boba says slowly, helmet tipping to the side as he considered, “and let me take care of you, to soothe my nature, I’ll agree.”

Din hardly needs convincing. “Kriff yes.”

Boba dips his head slightly, pressing his helmet to Din’s forehead, under the cloak. “We’ll talk about this, after. You know that, right?” He asks softly.

Din is silent for a long moment. “I think I would like that,” he admits, pushing himself up slightly into the touch before he collapses back on the bed, gasping as pain begins to claw at his belly again.

“I’ll call for those meds.”

Boba is gone for just a moment, rumbling into his comm as he undresses quickly, efficiently. “That doctor we freed? See if she has any hypos to spare.” His helmet thumps onto the table, boots kicked off. When his trousers hit the floor, Din’s cock twitches, desperate for a little confirmation of what’s to come.

“No,” Din huffs to himself, turning over to fumble his armor off in turn. If Boba does it, his body won’t let him rest after, he knows it. An Alpha touching him, undressing him- ah Kriff. Din stifled a whine, shucking his trousers and peeling his shorts off with a whimper. He was sticky. Between his cock drooling absently against the front and slick beginning to drip to his thighs with each cramp, his shorts were soaked. “I- ah- hope you aren't’ fond of these sheets,'' He joked, fighting the urge to hide in a shell of silence.

“Sheets be damned.” Boba was returning, climbing up onto the bed, down to his own underclothes. He knelt there at the edge of the bed, studying his new bedmate. “You’re sure you’ve never done this?” he asked, head cocking to the side curiously, “You’re damned beautiful.”

Din laughed, a huff of breath as he moved to lift the cloak. Pulling it back, he looked up at Boba with bare eyes for the first time. "Still think so?" He asked, a nervous smile tugging at his lips.

"Moreso." Boba opened his arms, offering everything Din needed.

Stripping out of his shirt, Din crawled across the bed, slotting himself chest to chest with Boba and nuzzling into the side of his neck with a broken little noise. The ache in his belly began, fluttering as Din squeezed Boba as tight as his arms allowed and Boba returned the pressure just as intensely. The pressure, the weight of an Alpha's scent, along with the knowledge that Boba was _resisting_ for him, sent a rush of endorphins through Din’s blood, steadying the pain and even, thankfully, easing it.

Din could do this. They could do this.

"Together." Boba promised.


	2. A Brief Epilogue

Din was dozing when Fennic brought the medication. The close contact, cuddling and scenting, as well as the tight, crushing hugs they gave each other when Din’s body tried to cramp again, had finally settled him enough to rest after a few hours.  
At the knock on the door, Boba shifted them both, letting Din slip to the bed and rubbing lightly over his tummy as he stood. "Stretch your legs, mesh'la." He murmured, "You'll get a cramp."

"Mmhm," Din sighed, arching against the sheets as he stretched his arms over his head, and pushed out one leg and then the other, groaning when his knees popped audibly.

At the door, Boba spoke with Fennic softly, accepting a crate from her hands and passing on a few further orders as to the fate of the goons still detained in the cells under the palace. Fennic laughed at something he said and punched him in the shoulder. "Wear some pants next time." She left them with the crate and Din snorting a laugh into the pillows.

"We burned one favor on that alone, I hope you know." Boba reminded him, heaving the crate to the foot of the bed and kneeling to search through it.

"You're the one who answered the door in your shorts." Din disagreed, rolling over to crawl to the end of the bed and join him.

"She would have shanked me where I stood if I had subjected her to anything worse," Boba laughed, digging out a box of hypo syringes. He loaded a container in it that Din was very familiar with. Setting it out on the bed, Boba returned to the crate, digging around inside. "Do you want to handle the hypo?" He asked, "I know it's not something everyone wants help with."

"I can do it."

Din dialed the dose higher than usual and took a breath, setting the base on the outside of his thigh and pulling the trigger before he could think too hard about what came next. The hypo hissed and a sharp pain stabbed into his thigh muscle, making him flinch. He knew it was just his body's general tenderness that made the sting so intense, but stars, it left a burn behind.

"Are you ready for something to eat?" Boba sat back where he had been against the pillows, setting a tray in his lap, laden with a few different kinds of rations and three bumpy skinned fruits.

"I did promise…."

Boba broke open one of the fruits, peeling out a piece of the meat and offering it to Din. "It would soothe me if you did." He said gently.

Din flushed, shifting to sit against Boba's side, drawing his knees up and together. He opened his mouth slightly, leaning down to Boba's offering. Boba shivered, feeding him the bite before wiping over his bottom lip with the pad of his thumb.

The shiver, Boba's eyes, lidded and intense, and the constant, almost compulsive, touching had Din asking, unbearably curious, "This feels good for you? Just feeding me?"

Boba thought about it a moment, peeling another segment while he considered. "It feels… the feeling of lining up an impossible shot and nailing your target. That satisfaction. The confirming of everything you know." He offered up another bite, repeating the swipe to clear his bottom lip. "My body knows, to the marrow of my bones, that I am meant to do this. Nourish you," He traced his finger tips over Din’s cheek lightly, "Care for you."

Din was already warm with the half-smothered heat but- Boba's words flushed his cheeks, made his breath hitch. " _Fuck_ -" Din reached for him, and Boba seemed to understand, pushing the tray to the bedside and opening his arms for Din.

"I got you-" Boba promised, "I got you, Din." He pulled Din close, bundling him flush to his chest, urging Din to nuzzle into his throat as they held each other as tightly as possible.

"Stars, I know it, Boba, I trust you."


End file.
